by Lucy Adams
“I will not wear it,” she said stoutly, seeing the feigned smile fade from her mother’s face, to be replaced by a very dark look. “It is not the one I chose and you know very well that you promised me that I would be permitted to make my own choices in certain matters this year.” This was not entirely the truth, for Lady Hamilton had only muttered something about Carolyn being able to make some decision for herself, having been worn out by Carolyn’s constant arguing over seemingly every little thing when it came to the London Season.
“And I was very specific about the gown that I settled on,” Carolyn continued, waving a hand towards her maid, instructing her silently to begin to remove the gown from Carolyn’s form. “You must send it back, Mama.”
Lady Hamilton drew herself up to her full height—which, given that she was some inches smaller than her daughter, did not make her appear in any way intimidating.
“You will leave that gown where it is!” she exclaimed, thrusting one long finger out towards the maid, who immediately dropped her hands and scurried back, clearly terrified of Lady Hamilton’s wrath. “Carolyn, you will cease this foolishness at once. I said, quite clearly, that I know what is best for you, and I –”
Carolyn held up one hand, palm outwards, fingertips pointing to the ceiling. It was very rude of her, of course, but she was angry and upset.
“Mama,” she interrupted, her voice filling the room. “I cannot wear this gown.” Seeing how her mother’s face filled with anger, flushing a little red, Carolyn did her best to restrain herself, wondering if reasoning with her mother would make any difference whatsoever. “You and I have been here in London twice before, thanks to my brother’s generosity.” Referring to her older brother, Viscount Hamilton, who had been very generous in his willingness to allow her to continue to come to London despite the fact that he himself was already wed and settled and did not need to care a great deal for her, Carolyn continued to speak. “But we have had no success.” There was a catch in her voice now, a tremor that made Carolyn flush as she tried to hide from her mother just how deeply such a thing had cut into her heart. “No gentleman has ever called on me,” she continued, despite the pain that rammed into her soul. “Indeed, whilst I have danced and conversed and been introduced to a good many gentlemen, not one has sought to consider my acquaintance further.”
“But that is because –”
“No, Mama.” Carolyn, feeling her anger draining away, leaving her only with a sense of sorrow and disappointment, took a step closer to Lady Hamilton, seeing her mother’s expression change. “The only reason is because I am not a diamond of the first water. I am not beautiful, despite your attempts to pull something lovely from this drab form.” She shrugged, pretending that it did not matter. “My coloring is pale, my hair unwilling to remain in its pins. I am much too tall, much too broad and much too unsuitable, I am sure. Father, God rest him, left me a good dowry, of which I am grateful for, but if you continue to parade me in these colors which have done nothing to encourage gentlemen towards me, then I am sure that they will not work this Season either.” She swallowed the ache in her throat, trying her best to find a way to explain all that she needed to. “Mama, I have been forced to pretend that I have no interest in anything other than dancing and in taking tea,” she finished, aware that her mother began to frown at the mere mention that Carolyn might enjoy something other than such genteel things. “I have attended the theatre often but found no enjoyment there. I have been to soirees, dances and all manner of occasions, but there has been very few to talk to, very few to speak with about anything other than insipid and dull remarks that do not spark my interest. I have hated the presence that I must put on, as though I care nothing for politics, nothing for the current advancements in science. I have even been told that I must not mention my love of riding, even though it is quite a genteel and entirely proper pursuit!”
“It is not when it comes to how you ride,” Lady Hamilton muttered, although she now looked quite defeated, unable to tame her unruly daughter.
“Is there not an opportunity now for me to live as I choose?” Carolyn pressed, as her mother sank into a chair. “Might I not now have the opportunity to present myself as I truly am to society?” She glanced down at the pale cream gown, shuddering at the sight of it. “Which would begin with wearing a color that I believe suits me better than this!”
Lady Hamilton sighed heavily, passing one hand over her eyes before looking wearily up at her daughter. Carolyn held her breath, waiting for her mother’s judgment to fall.
“You will bring shame to this family, if you do so.”
Carolyn bristled, her cheeks flaming. “I will not,” she said, firmly, glaring at her mother. “I will be entirely myself but I will not scream my opinions nor my thoughts from the rooftops, if that is what you fear. I will share such things very discreetly and with great consideration.” Lifting her chin, she arched one eyebrow. “I would hope that, after two Seasons, Mama, you would have a little more faith in me. I know full well how society works. I am more than aware of the rumor mill and the like. Have no doubt; I will not intentionally bring any sort of shame to either you or to my brother and his wife. But mayhap, Mama, in permitting me this, you might be opening up the hope of a future happiness for me, with a gentleman who understands me entirely and does not think me to be someone I am not. The presence I have worn these last two Seasons, I cannot wear any longer. Please understand.”
Lady Hamilton closed her eyes, her lips thin and expression tight. For a long moment, Carolyn feared that she would refuse, that they would go into this third Season as they had done the previous two—fighting for control, with Carolyn being forced, repeatedly, to do as her mother wished or be unable to attend anything at all.
But then, her mother sighed, opened her eyes and nodded.
“Very well,” she said, in such a thin, low voice that Carolyn feared she had not heard her mother correctly. Looking up and seeing Carolyn staring at her, Lady Hamilton sighed and spread her hands. “Very well,” she said, shaking her head and making her disapproval known—despite the words coming from her mouth. “You may do as you wish and I can only pray that you will be successful….if for no other reason than to have the burden of you removed from my shoulders and placed onto someone else!”
Those words stung and took away the sense of triumph that had filled Carolyn at the first. She said nothing but looked away from her mother, not wanting to show any sort of emotion for fear that her mother might only add to her already sharp words.
“You may return that gown and I shall tell the dressmaker to send the one you requested in its place,” Lady Hamilton finished, heavily. “No doubt you will wish to wear it this evening?”
Carolyn lifted her chin, turning her gaze back to her mother in as serene a fashion as she could. “I would like to, yes, if it arrives in time.”
Lady Hamilton said nothing, glancing towards the maid, who stood in the corner of the room, and managing to capture her attention with seemingly only a look. The maid was back by Carolyn’s side in a moment, the gown being removed from her shoulders almost at once.
“Then I will see to it at once,” Lady Hamilton murmured, with a distinct sniff that spoke of her disapproval and frustration. “For I can hardly wait to see what sort of spectacle of yourself you shall make this evening.” And with that, she swept from the room, leaving Carolyn feeling nothing more than entirely disheartened and utterly humiliated.
“I must hope that you have a space on your dance card, Miss Hemmingway.”
“You are very kind,” Carolyn murmured, lifting her dance card and handing it to the gentleman, whilst feeling her mother’s hand tense on her arm. The gentleman before her was none other than Lord Voxley, who was well known for his rakish ways, but Carolyn felt nothing other than triumph at his attentions towards her, for the gentleman had sought an introduction only a few moments before and had been granted one by her brother who clearly saw nothing disadvantageous in the acquaintance.
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“I hope you will honor me with two dances, Miss Hemmingway,” Lord Voxley continued, writing down his name on first one space and then the other, without waiting to see if she would grant him such a thing. “Truly, I am astonished that your brother has not seen fit to make an introduction until this present moment!”
“And she has had two Seasons already,” Lady Hamilton interrupted, her tone waspish as she looked at Lord Voxley with ice in her eyes. “This will be her third!”
Carolyn felt heat rise up into her cheeks as she shot a long look at her mother, seeing how Lady Hamilton was gazing steadily at Lord Voxley, clearly attempting to make a point that did not require being made. Her mother was trying to state that there was a very good reason that Carolyn had not been introduced to Lord Voxley before now—mostly that she had been very easy to ignore—and in stating that Carolyn was now on her third Season was practically suggesting that Carolyn was nearing spinsterhood!
Lord Voxley, however, did not seem in the least bit perturbed.
“Third Season, Miss Hemmingway?” he exclaimed, turning toward Carolyn again and ignoring Lady Hamilton’s gaze. “Then I am all the more astonished and sorry that I have not been introduced to you before. Were I permitted, I should dance with you thrice this evening, to make up for what has clearly been an oversight on my part.” He lifted one eyebrow and nudged Lord Hamilton, Carolyn’s brother. “Although I should also rail at your brother for not insisting that I was introduced earlier,” he said, with a grin.
“Indeed you should,” Carolyn agreed, knowing full well that Lord Voxley was not someone she would give even a moment of consideration to but finding his company and conversation rather enjoyable nonetheless. In her prior two Seasons, she had found plenty of gentlemen to converse with, but none had been as bright nor as spirited as Lord Voxley appeared to be. She was already looking forward to dancing with him.
“Then I shall,” Lord Voxley replied, his broad grin and twinkling green eyes now bestowed fully on her. “But not in your presence, Miss Hemmingway, for to do so would be exceedingly rude indeed.” He bowed, first to her and then to her mother. “I look forward to our dance later in the evening, Miss Hemmingway.”
“As do I,” she replied, allowing her gaze to linger on him as he turned away and moved through the crowd.
Lady Hamilton’s fingers tightened on Carolyn’s arm, hard.
“You cannot consider Lord Voxley!” she exclaimed, in a rather loud whisper. “You know very well the sort of gentleman he is!”
Carolyn lifted her chin and looked straight at her mother. “But Mama, I am to dance with Lord Voxley,” she said, allowing a tone of confusion to fill her voice. “Even though I am fully aware of his reputation, is it not that those about me will take notice of whom he is dancing with? And might that then not lead to further introductions?” She arched one eyebrow, seeing her mother deflate slowly.
“I will not bring shame on the family,” Carolyn continued, a little more harshly. “You need not have any fear in that regard, Mama.”
Lady Hamilton slowly let go of her daughter’s arm. “I suppose that must suffice,” she murmured, darkly. “But you will return to me the moment you finish dancing with Lord Voxley. Do you understand?”
Carolyn sniffed, turned her head away and set her shoulders. “Of course I understand, Mama,” she said, tartly. “And you know very well that I am always inclined to do precisely what you say.”
Dancing with Lord Voxley was just as wonderful as she expected. However, the second dance with him was a little less than pleasant.
“And then we go this way, do we not?!”
Carolyn winced as Lord Voxley grasped her hands much too tight and began to haul her the wrong way down the dance floor. He was clearly in high spirits but, if she surmised correctly, had also drunk a little too much and was now quite definitely in his cups.
“And then why do we not go around and about?” Lord Voxley said, laughing, as he held her hands and dragged her towards the waiting crowd, stopping dead when he saw someone else that he decided was of much greater importance than she. Bowing much too low, he toppled forward, and Carolyn could only step back in horror, her face crimson with embarrassment as she watched him. To return to the set now with Lord Voxley as her partner would be more than a little foolish, but to remain standing here would only draw her more unwanted attention.
I promise I will not bring shame to the family name.
The words she had promised her mother swam before her eyes and she shut them tight in an attempt to remove those words from her mind. This was not her doing, of course, but no doubt her mother would decide, quite definitely, that there was something Carolyn had done wrong.
“Might I cut in?”
Carolyn opened her eyes to see a gentleman standing to her left, his hand extended and a kindness in his eyes that she could not pull away from.
“We should return to the set,” the gentleman said, as though this had been the way of things since the start of the evening. “If you will, my lady.” He offered her his hand, and without a flicker of hesitation, Carolyn took it, hearing the gentle brogue of his voice and finding herself quite delighted by it. He led her back to the set, found their space and assumed his position without any expression of worry, anxiety or embarrassment on his face. In fact, he looked quite contented, smiling at her gently as they continued the dance with him as her partner. It was quite astonishing, really, but Carolyn was not about to question the gentleman. In fact, she prayed silently that the rest of the ton would be much too busy watching Lord Voxley’s foolishness rather than to look at her.
The gentleman in question—for she did not know his name given that they had not been introduced, completed the rest of the dance quite well indeed. He never once put a foot in the wrong place, did not nudge her or stand on her toes, but rather moved with a lithe grace that seemed at odds with his large frame. He was not rotund, she considered, but rather quite broad and stocky in appearance, being just about the same height as she. There was a kindness about his expression that had not faded yet, and she saw the same warmth and sympathy in his hazel eyes when he bowed to her as she had seen when he had first come to her rescue. Curtsying, Carolyn did not take her eyes from him, taking in the cut of his very fine clothing, the shock of thick, dark hair that was swept to one side, and the firm set of his jaw. There was no hint of cruelty about him and yet she felt as though he was a man with a firm character and keen determination.
And he is quite unconventional, she thought to herself, as he offered her his arm to escort her from the floor, given that we are not introduced but that he has still come to my aid. Many gentlemen would have ignored my plight completely. In fact, all but he did!
“I must know your name,” she said, as he led her from the floor, although not in the direction of her mother given that he had very little idea as to who she might be. “You saved me from a very embarrassing predicament.”
“Not at all,” he answered, with a quick smile. “Lord Voxley is inclined towards such displays and you are not the first young lady he has left in such a fix.” That smile remained as he looked into her face. “We are not properly introduced of course, so I hope you will forgive me for that.”
“I do, without hesitation!” she exclaimed, clutching his arm a little tighter. “After what you have done, I can only express my thanks.” A quick darting glance around the room told her that very few people were watching her, although Lady Hamilton was quickly making her way towards them. Carolyn knew she only had a few moments. “It seems that most of the ton were taken with Lord Voxley’s behavior rather than watching me, so I am truly grateful to you for that. As will my mother be, Lady Hamilton.”
The gentleman cleared his throat and let go of her arm, turning slightly so that he might incline his head. “Do beg my forgiveness from your mother also, if you please,” he said, already beginning to turn away. “Good evening, my lady.”
“But what is your name?” she asked, putting out one ha
nd to touch his arm, astonished at her own forwardness. “I must know it. You can surely grant me that!”
The gentleman cleared his throat, a tight smile on his lips and a rather distant expression on his eyes. “I am Baron Franks,” he said, already turning away from her. “Good evening, my lady.”
“Miss Hemmingway,” she called after him, feeling rather foolish when he did not turn around, did not look at her and did not even throw a quick glance in her direction. Heat climbed into her face as she caught one or two looks being sent her way, aware that she had overstepped just a little.
“Goodness, Carolyn, whatever were you thinking?”
Closing her eyes, Carolyn felt her stomach tighten as she turned to face the onslaught that would now be her mother’s sharp words.
“You should have refused Lord Voxley the moment you realized he was in such a foolish state,” Lady Hamilton exclaimed, as Carolyn’s face darkened red all the more. “And then to dance with a gentleman you do not know, I –”
“If you would like to lower your voice just a little, Mama,” Carolyn muttered, twisting her head away from her mother. “You might then notice that there are those nearby who are listening to every word that you speak.” She glared hard at Lady Hamilton, wishing that her mother could show even a speck of kindness and compassion, given that it was not her fault that Lord Voxley had behaved in such a manner. “Now, where is Lord Williamson? He is to dance the country dance with me.” Lord Williamson had come to be both introduced and to seek a dance from her after her first dance with Lord Voxley. Her dance card was not full by any means, but it was a good deal better than last Season’s already. Seeing that her mother had closed her eyes in evident humiliation, Carolyn did not allow another word to pass her lips. Lifting her chin, she moved a few steps away from her mother, attempting to appear as calm and as resolute as before. Yes, Lord Voxley had quite embarrassed her, but there was no real attention being given to her. Lord Franks had helped her in that regard, although she had to confess that she found his manner to be somewhat odd. The way he had turned from her, without even seeking out her name and seemingly unwilling to give her his—it was all quite extraordinary.